conejita
- Reads 19,644
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- Parts 9
MatureOngoing1h 39m
Last published Mon, Aug 12, 2024
he turned to her, just to observe her. she had no idea of what was coming. his hand made contact with her neck, not squeezing, but just placing it there. "oh, conejita. you poor thing." he said in faux sadness.
her face twisted in confusion before he continued. "give me a word." he demanded. she didn't know what to say as she was put on the spot. searching her brain, she remembered her red velvet cupcake from yesterday.
her voice was soft whisper as she kept her eyes on his hand wrapped around her throat. "velvet."
he nodded, leaning towards her ear. "i'm not gonna stop until the police are banging on your door in fear that your life is being taken from you." he warned. "or that word is being screamed. you have that one word, remember it."
she swallowed thickly, before moving her head as much as she could due to his grip.
"very good."
***********************
what happens when two traumatized people who are incredibly different, fall in love?
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There's this silence between us that stretches longer than it should, and it wraps around my chest like a weighted blanket. My throat tightens. I stare at him like I'm trying to memorise the face of someone who shouldn't exist. A dream made real. My lips part before I can stop myself. "Were you sent by my dad to take care of me?" The question hangs in the air, trembling like the last leaf in autumn. Aiden's gaze softens. His lips tug into the gentlest smile I've ever seen. It's the kind of smile that could mend broken wings. "No" he whispers. "I volunteered." The words hit harder than I expect. Like a punch wrapped in silk. I gasp, air leaves me in a rush I can't reclaim. But before I can fully process what he's just said, he takes a step closer. His fingers ghost over my cheek, brushing away a tear I didn't realise had fallen. And then-he kisses me painfully slow. His hand cups the back of my neck, anchoring me to a moment I never want to end. And just when I think it's over, he pulls away just enough to look at me. His thumb traces the damp trail of tears down my cheek. He doesn't say anything. He just leans in again, and kisses them away. One by one. My tears. My pain. My silence. All kissed away by a boy who didn't come to save me because someone sent him. He came because he chose to.
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